Letters for Erik
by Robika
Summary: Poor Erik is sick and is stuck in bed with plenty of time to answer phanmail so review and tell him your problems! Rated T
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, I got this idea a while ago. This phic will be like 'Dear Abby' except it will be 'Dear Erik' instead. Then Erik will answer your questions and help you with your problems. But if no one reviews, this story will flop, so please review!

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The Law Offices of Erik Deven-Arion

Erik leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. It was a slow day at the office. His last client of the day had just left, slightly mollified from her brief meeting with Erik. Her case was a simple one; she was charging her divorced husband with grand theft auto. Apparently there was some controversy as to whether the divorce document who could have the new car they hadn't finished paying off. Erik couldn't see why he couldn't just Punjab them both and keep the car for himself. How he got into practicing law, he didn't know. It just happened.

Erik glanced at the digital clock on his sturdy oak desk. It was five minutes to five. Time to go home. Erik gathered up his briefcase, looking out the window as he shrugged on his expensive coat. It was raining lightly. His coat would keep him dry. Erik walked out of his office and down the hallway, nodding a goodbye to the secretary at the front desk. He pushed the elevator button to go down to the parking garage under the law firm. The elevator door opened after only a moment's waiting, and Erik went in.

When he reached the garage floor, he waited some more as the parking valet picked up his car for him. He didn't have to wait long, as the valet knew Erik didn't like waiting for things. Erik got into his expensive black car and drove out of the parking structure, into the light rain that was falling over the city.

Erik switched on the radio as he waited at a stop light. He liked to be up-to-date on what today's masses considered music. Some boy band was playing a hard rock song about something or another; it was hard to distinguish words through the yelling and the loud drums. Erik detected a guitar and bass through the over-played ride cymbal of the drum set. He switched to a different radio station at the next stop light. This time it was a country station. A woman's voice came through the guitar chords, full of pain and unrequited love. Erik groaned. He didn't want to listen to someone's petty drama; he dealt with enough of those at work. He switched the channel. It sounded like a commercial for some new form of allergy medicine in Spanish. Erik quickly switched to the next station; he wanted music, not advertisements. This last radio station was the winner: a classical music station. Mozart's clarinet concerto graced Erik's ears. So it wasn't up-to-date, it was worthy of Erik's ears.

When Erik arrived home, he unlocked the front door and was greeted by his cat, Jumoke. Jumoke was a gorgeous Norwegian Forest Cat. Her coat was a tortoise-shell pattern of black, brown, orange, and white. Her divine green eyes and cute pink nose stood out among the chaos of her pelt. Jumoke meowed as Erik patted her on the head.

"Hello!" A voice called out from within the large house. Erik hung up his coat and took off his shoes. "I'm home!" Erik called back. He walked up the grand staircase to the master suite.

_Strange as it seems, _

_There's been a run of crazy dreams_

_And a man who can interpret could go far,_

_Could be come a –_

"Not again!" Erik muttered, as a song became stuck in his head. He sat on his king size bed and pulled off his socks, flinging them into the laundry hamper on his way into the bathroom.

_Just for this moment_

_As long as you're mine_

_Come be how you want to_

_And see how bright we shine_

_Borrow the moonlight_

_Until it is through_

_And know I'll be here, _

_Holding you_

_As long as you're mine_

"Make it stop!" Erik yelled, covering his ears as if it would stop these random songs coming into his head.

"What is it?" asked a young woman as she appeared at Erik's door. She was clutching a small pile of paper.

_It's just, for the first time, I feel…_

"Wicked girl! Don't come into my bedroom without knocking first! How many times do I have to tell you, Lirit?" Erik shouted at her.

_Who do you think you are? _

_Barging in on me and my guitar?_

_Little girl, hey! _

_The door is that way!_

"Sorry, Erik. What's wrong?" Lirit asked. Lirit was Erik's apprentice. She lived in the spare bedroom downstairs for free; in return for doing Erik's housekeeping and cleaning.

Erik sighed, making his way over to the upholstered chair next to the fireplace. "I keep getting all of these songs stuck in my head."

"Well, when I get a song stuck in my head, I start singing a different one and then go talk to someone to take my mind off of music for a bit." Lirit offered, sitting at the edge of Erik's bed.

Erik shot her a look. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Lirit was impervious to Erik's comment. "Well, then, this shouldn't be too bad!" she said, handing Erik the papers she had been holding. "I wrote a three movement guitar duet!"

Erik perused the score, following the lines of melody in his head. "Too repetitive, there's only a bridge in the third movement. You're lucky you didn't make these longer, or everyone would get sick of hearing the same bass line over and over. Sort out your genres. A swing melody next to a rock bit with a little classical influence on the side? It won't work."

Lirit huffed, "But I worked so hard on that! What if I didn't make it a three movement piece but three short etudes?"

Erik shook his head, "You're going to have to learn more about guitar yourself. You're barely proficient at it. You can't write a beginner's book if you still have more to learn."

Lirit stood and snatched her music away, "You think you know everything!"

_Anything you can do I can do better!_

_I can do anything better than you!_

Erik sighed as Lirit stormed off. "I still have a song stuck in my head!" he called after her.


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera, or any musical for that matter. I do not own Mary Poppins either, and Lirit's symptoms are from what I found on the internet, if you know that they are fallacious, please tell me.

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Erik changed out of his work attire and into a more comfortable outfit of black trousers and a fitted red shirt. That's still practically business casual, but this is Erik for you. Yes, Erik knew all the tricks, match one's socks with one's pants, and one's belt with one's shoes. Lirit watched all of those makeover shows on television and often rambled on about them. Erik had picked up a few things. He removed his mask and shoved it into the nightstand drawer. He didn't wear it at home; Lirit wasn't bothered by the sight of him, and he wasn't about to wear his mask when he didn't need to.

Jumoke waltzed into his bedroom, tail high in the air. She leapt onto Erik's bed and climbed into his lap. Erik ran a hand down her back, wincing slightly as her claws kneaded into his legs. Jumoke's tail tip flicked as she began to purr. Erik scratched her chin, one of her favorite spots to be petted. "Jumoke, I have to get up," he told her.

Jumoke licked his fingers.

Erik grinned, "Jumoke, really. You have to get off now." He tried to lift her off his lap, but Jumoke dug her claws in further.

Eventually, Jumoke relinquished Erik's lap and Erik stood up. He walked out of his bedroom and down the stairs. Erik walked down the hallway into his studio, where he stored his music instruments and composing equipment. Erik took out his violin and practiced for a while.

After about an hour of practicing, Erik emerged from his studio to hear Lirit yelling that dinner was almost ready. "I'm going out tonight, Lirit!" Erik called back, jogging up the stairs to get ready to go.

Lirit muttered an "Oh," that no one else could hear. What could she say? She had worked so hard to prepare dinner, and he was going out? Sure, she wasn't his wife or anything, but making dinner for him was part of the deal when he was too busy with work to cook for himself. Lirit stood stupidly at the table, watching the steam rise from the rice and bean dish that was occupying the table. As Erik slammed the door behind himself, she came to her senses and sat down.

Lirit ate alone. She cleaned up alone. She put the leftovers away alone. She did a bit of housecleaning alone. Save for Jumoke, who came downstairs to sniff disdainfully at her food bowl until Lirit refilled it. She resented Erik working as a lawyer. He was a musician! From what little she gathered from his past, he didn't much care for laws anyway. Lirit felt she was doing more work for Erik than the time he spent teaching her. All he did was critique her songs, he never gave her pointers or a push in the right direction. And never a kindly word from him.

Lirit collapsed on her bed. She couldn't afford college, she wasn't good enough to get all of the scholarships, and she had no backup plan if Erik failed as a mentor. She tried to suppress these anxieties by reading a book, and quickly lost herself in the pages of a captivating novel.

00000000000000000000000000000000

After eating dinner at a well to do vegan restaurant with some friends, Erik and his companions found themselves at a small bar. Because hey, chicks dig guys in masks. It adds to the whole mystery factor. As if Erik needed any more of that. About halfway through his mug, a young and extremely beautiful woman appeared by Erik's side. They struck up conversation right away. Then Erik's cell phone rang. It was Cruz, one of the lawyers in Erik's firm. They had a brief word, and then hung up. "Sorry about that," Erik said to the woman beside him. "That was my partner."

The woman looked confused. "You're gay?" she asked, mistaking Erik's comment to mean domestic partner.

"No, my partner in law," Erik specified. "Listen, I need to get going. Have a good night," he excused himself, and got a ride home with a friend.

Erik came home to find the house silent. Too silent. Lirit was usually making some noise or another, and she didn't even call out to say hello like she normally did. Erik wandered into Lirit's bedroom, to find her in a fetal position on her bed. She was shaking terribly and her breath was coming in sharp gasps. Her eyes were raw from crying and they had a hard time following Erik's movement into the room.

Erik sat on the edge of Lirit's bed, "Lirit, what's wrong?"

Lirit's teeth chattered as she answered, "No, please, Erik. Don't send me away. I'll be good. I even made you dinner. I'm sorry for everything." She shut her eyes against a wave of nausea, but she didn't vomit. She blinked several times to focus her vision and buried her face in her hands.

Erik thought about what could be ailing her. "Is your chest hurting?"

Lirit shook her head. "I think I'm going to die."

"Well, you're not having a heart attack. You can talk so it's not a stroke, and you're conscious, so you're not under cardiac arrest." Erik pieced it all together, "Lirit, did you take your panic attack medicine?"

Lirit shook her head again, "What if it's really poison?"

Erik wrapped his arm around her, "No, it will help you. You're not going to die. I won't let you get poisoned. You've taken your pill a million times before. It's the same pill. Just try it. Come with me and I'll make it better."

Lirit detected alcohol on Erik's breath, "You've been drinking. Stay away from me. I'm not going with you! I made you dinner, please leave me alone. I cooked it for you. Go away and let me die in peace!" She wildly tried to back away from him, but she was too disoriented and crawled away, groping at pillows for support.

Erik paused. She's got paranoid personality disorder as well? Maybe she's just delusional. He stood up. What does Erik do when he's in a jam? He breaks out into song!

"Stay awake, don't rest your head  
Don't lie down upon your bed  
While the moon drifts in the skies  
Stay awake, don't close your eyes

Though the world is fast asleep  
Though your pillow's soft and deep  
You're not sleepy as you seem  
Stay awake, don't nod and dream  
Stay awake, don't nod and dream."

Sure it wasn't from Phantom of the Opera, but Mary Poppins did know a thing or two about lullabies. It calmed Lirit down to the point where she was almost asleep when Erik finished singing. So it wasn't her panic attack medicine; it worked sufficiently anyway.

Lirit's eyelids drooped as she whispered to Erik, "I wish you would teach me how to do that. Don't go to work anymore, music is where your heart lies."

Erik smiled wearily, Lirit might get her wish if he had heard Cruz properly on the phone. He switched off the light and closed the door behind himself. Then he jogged up the stairs to his bedroom to call Cruz back.


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own Phantom of the Opera. I wonder who does. Gaston Leroux is dead, so who's collecting the royalties? 5436 Sea Cliff Avenue is a made up address, please don't go around on Sea Cliff Avenue asking for Erik. I don't know how they would respond. Probably call the cops, so don't. This is my disclaimer, so don't say I didn't warn you! If there really is a 5436 Sea Cliff Avenue, I don't own that house and I'm sorry that I used your address in a phic. I'm a minor, so I can plead ignorance! I think. I don't know. I don't own Wicked either, so don't sue me for using the lyrics. I don't own Allison Fischer, but I do admire her work! I don't own any of the forums and phanfictions Lirit mentions. Oh, and sorry for taking so long to update. And sorry that this disclaimer has basically spoiled the chapter for you.**

**If you would like to argue with Erik about his views on Lestat and Elton John, please review. ****If you would like to contribute some 'phan-mail' to this story for Erik to read later on, please review. And, if you have a question or a problem, and want the Erik in my phic to answer, please review. If you feel like reviewing, please review. If you feel like talking to a random person about your day, please review. ****

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The next morning when Erik came down the stairs for breakfast, he found Lirit sitting on a bar stool next to the peninsula in the kitchen. She was sipping a smoothie out of a straw, reading a book. "Are you feeling better this morning?" Erik asked her as he got two eggs out of the refrigerator.

Lirit nodded, "I'm sorry."

Erik glanced at her as he made himself an omelet, "Don't be. I'm sorry for distressing you. I was only trying to help."

"You've got nothing to apologize for."

The kitchen was silent for a moment. Then Erik asked, "Did you take your pill this morning?"

Lirit responded in an offended tone, "Of course I did! You have so little faith in me, Erik."

Erik didn't reply. He yawned sleepily as he sat down next to Lirit. "Bad news. Cruz is moving to Colorado. Witness protection program. His last case was a bad one. The judge was new and couldn't keep order, the bailiff had an asthma attack, so no one could stop the witnesses from fighting. Cruz got dragged into the brawl and the defendant escaped. They think the defendant might want revenge on Cruz for punching him in the gut, so they're relocating him and his family."

"That's terrible!" Lirit sympathized.

Erik nodded, "I'll miss him. He was quite a joker." He sat down next to Lirit to eat his omelet. After a minute, he said, "I think I'm going to stay home from work today. I'm not feeling very well."

"It's Saturday, bozo. And it's probably just a hangover," Lirit said, not in the least bit worried.

Erik thought this over, "No, I haven't been feeling well lately. I've had a cough, and I've been really tired."

Lirit sipped her smoothie. "Maybe you should go to the doctor," she suggested.

"I hate doctors!" Erik groaned. "They always want to see my face and then they prescribe some ointment to make the red bumps go away. They think its eczema, or something. They don't understand that it's a birth defect and won't ever go away. Believe me, I've tried everything!" He put his hand to his face, feeling his cursed face that has caused so much grief and pain.

Lirit patted Erik on the back, "Calm down, calm down. They're doctors, they won't attack you for being so…" Lirit struggled to find the right word.

"Ugly? Strange? Deformed? Revolting?" Erik offered, pouting.

"…Unique," Lirit finished. She got up to rinse out her empty smoothie cup. "Just politely refuse the prescription for your face and then ask them to focus on why you're feeling so poorly."

"But it's such a hassle to go through all of that!" Erik whined.

Lirit rounded on Erik, "Listen, if you feel bad enough to complain to me about it, then you need to do something! I'm not going to listen to you gripe about how sick you are, and then hear you refuse to take strides to get better!" Lirit paused as she realized she was talking back to her mentor.

Erik was too tired to get mad at her about sassing him. "Okay, okay. Don't get so worked up about it. I probably just have a cold. I'll call the doctor and make an appointment," Erik rose and cleaned up his dishes.

Lirit got the address book out and flipped to the page that had Erik's doctor's phone number on it. She left him in the kitchen as she retreated to her bedroom. Erik heard her strum the opening chords to some Beatles song on her guitar as he picked up the phone. Erik got an appointment for that afternoon, and he shut himself in his studio until it was time to go.

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When Erik got back from the doctor's office, he heard Lirit singing. "I think you're wonderful! And we deserve each other; don't you see this is our chance?"

Erik grinned as Lirit, who was prancing around the foyer with a dust rag.

"…And we deserve each other, don't we…" Lirit grinned back at Erik. "…Boq," she finished.

"You know what?" Erik asked.

"Let's dance?" Lirit asked, in accordance to the song.

"No, I have mono!" Erik replied dramatically.

Lirit squealed, "Ooh! The kissing disease! Who have you been kissing lately?" Lirit wrinkled her nose at the thought of Erik being romantic.

Erik looked hurt, "I haven't been kissing anyone!"

Lirit rolled her eyes, "Well, you've certainly got enough phan-mail to make a body think you'd have found someone by now."

"They know where I live?" Erik groaned, climbing up the stairs to his bedroom.

"No, they send it to your P.O. box at work. If they knew you really lived at 5436 Sea Cliff Avenue, they'd be breaking all the windows and doors to get to you."

"I seriously doubt I'm that popular," Erik responded.

"No, really!" Lirit protested. "They've got websites all about you. They've put up chat forums on things like, 'If Erik were an animal, what would he be?' and 'What does Erik sleep in at night?' or 'If Erik was your neighbor, what would you do?' and 'What does Erik eat for breakfast?' or 'What flavor is Erik?' or 'If you and Erik were in a room together, what would you do?'"

"Intriguing," Erik yawned.

"You'd be a black panther, you sleep in your boxers, I'd live my life normally if you were my neighbor, you had an omelet for breakfast this morning, you're dark chocolate, and we're in a room together and we're talking, but sometimes we sing and play music." Lirit took a breath before continuing, "And they've got this thing called phan-fiction where phans write stories about you in weird situations like if you had twelve kids, or if you and Christine had gotten together, or if Raoul fell for you, or if Christine didn't exist, or if there was another woman in your life besides Christine, or --"

"Lirit, shut up!" Erik yelled, causing Jumoke to scamper into the family room, knocking into a chair in her haste. "Wow, you don't see this kind of publicity for Allison Fischer…" he mumbled as he continued plodding up the stairs.

"Who's she?" Lirit asked.

"She was Claudia in 'Lestat.' I'm so ashamed of Elton John. 'The Lion King' was so much better than that poor excuse for a musical. They should've asked Andrew Lloyd Webber to do it, honestly."

"I thought it was okay," Lirit muttered.

"And that's the difference between you and me. I know music, and you hear music." Erik ended the conversation by shutting his bedroom door.

"What, you smell music?" Lirit retorted.

"Leave me alone, I need to rest!" Erik threw his voice so it came from the dust rag Lirit was holding.

"You promised me you'd teach me some more!" Lirit shouted angrily.

"When did I say that?" asked the dust rag.


	4. Chapter 4

**The French is a poem and I couldn't get the accents in but they're supposed to be there. I don't own Phantom of the Opera. Actually, this chapter doesn't really have any Phantom of the Opera related stuff in it. I mean, I can use the name Erik in a story and not mean Erik the Angel of Music. And there isn't any descriptive information in this chapter that would distnguish which Erik I am talking about. But I'll put in the disclaimer anyway. Whatever. It's still fanfiction!

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The next morning, when Erik didn't come downstairs for breakfast, Lirit went upstairs to check on him. "Erik? Are you still alive?" she asked, opening his bedroom door.

Erik woke up as he heard her voice. His hands flew immediately to his face, it was a habit. "Lirit! Can't you knock before waltzing in on me?" he yelled, using up all of his strength.

"Oops, sorry Erik. Do you want some breakfast?" Lirit asked from the doorway.

Erik rolled over and curled himself into a ball, "No, I just want to sleep."

Lirit said, "Okay, I'll make you some soup."

Erik groaned, "I'm not hungry!"

"Do you think you should get a leave of absence from your work? Since you'll be in bed for a few weeks?"

"I'm a lawyer; can't I just give myself one?"

"I don't know, you're the one that's supposed to know all about laws here. Do you need anything?"

"No, just don't make too much noise."

"But I'll have to use the blender to make soup."

"Use a different recipe then."

"But--"

"Lirit, get out of my room!" Erik covered his head with a pillow.

Lirit rolled her eyes, "Okay, okay, I'm going…" she shut the door behind her. She walked down the stairs and went into the kitchen. She fed Jumoke and did lots of boring housekeeping chores that I don't want to go into detail about.

Then it was around noon. Lirit had just finished making carrot soup. She had used the blender, but Erik was too tired to complain about it and yell at her. She was ladling some into two bowls when the phone rang. Lirit hurried to pick it up, not wanting the raucous sound disturb Erik. It was Cruz. As they conversed briefly, Lirit didn't say anything about his moving away as she wasn't supposed to know.

"Erik! Wake up! It's 12:30! I made you some soup!" Lirit announced five minutes later as she walked into Erik's room carrying a tray with two steaming bowls of a thick, orange soup.

But Erik wasn't in his bed.

"Erik?" Lirit asked.

Erik walked out of his bathroom, yawning.

"Whoa there!" Lirit exclaimed, looking away.

"What?" asked Erik, who was in his boxers.

"Put some clothes on! I don't want to look at you!" Lirit blushed.

"What's wrong with me?" Erik asked, slightly offended. He went to the gym dutifully every few days.

"You're old!" Lirit answered.

"I am not old!" Erik argued. "I'm 32!"

Lirit sniffed, "Besides, chest hair is gross."

"Well I'm certainly not trying to impress you or anything," Erik replied, getting back in bed.

"Anyway, here's some carrot soup." Lirit put the tray on the bed. "Cruz called, he wants his tie back."

"Will you get it out of my closet? It's the dark green one." Erik asked.

Lirit went to Erik's closet and got out said tie. She pulled a black T-shirt off of its hanger and threw it at Erik, "At least put a shirt on."

"Lirit! It almost landed in the soup!" Erik exclaimed, his voice muffled as he pulled the shirt over his head.

Lirit was goofing off and trying to tie the tie around her neck. "This is harder than a Punjab lasso!" she murmured.

"Lirit, stop it! You're going to break it!" Erik scolded between slurps of soup. "This needs more salt. Get me some salt."

"No, too much salt is bad for you," Lirit responded, pulling the tie off. She sat on the bed next to Erik and picked up her bowl of soup. "And I'm not going to break a tie."

Erik grumbled something incoherent.

They ate their soup in silence until Erik finished and told Lirit to leave so he could sleep some more. Lirit gathered up the empty dishes on the tray and left Erik to sleep.

Lirit spent the remainder of the day giving Jumoke a private guitar concert in her bedroom.

"L'etre que je suis n'a pas de maitre

Mais un ami que je choisis,

Sans qui je peux mourrir d'ennui.

Traite moi donc en egal,

Je ne suis pas ta peluche !

Respecte mon independence,

Je te prouverai, librement, en caresses

Et "ron ron" que je t'aime.

Et s'il le faut, des annees,

je t'attendrai, mon ami…."

Lirit sang a poem, making up the melody as she went. She strummed the appropriate chords on her guitar. Jumoke's eyes were half-closed as she sat at the foot of Lirit's bed. Her ears swiveled around, picking up sounds other than Lirit's playing. Jumoke's tail twitched in rhythm to the melody. Lirit smiled, wondering if Jumoke understood what she was singing. She barely understood French herself. As Lirit put her guitar away, she looked up to see Jumoke arch her back in a stretch. Jumoke leapt off the bed and pressed her flank against Lirit's leg. Lirit scratched Jumoke's chin. Perhaps Jumoke's attentions were her way of telling Lirit that she played well.


	5. Love, Life, and Mayhem

**This is totally random and abusrd. It's a tribute to the drama class.**

**I should introduce the characters used in this sketch as follows:**

**Godfrey "Chet" Derwood: Owner of the Ye Olde English Cafe**

**Osiris: Psychic of the streets**

**Oscar: UPS Deliveryman**

**Emmy: Assistant UPS Deliverywoman**

**Carli:The waitress**

**Juniper Dawson: Personal Assistant to Chuck Dick John**

**GiGi Valentine:Part of the CDJ Show, love advisor**

**Dr. Hilary Meriwhether, Ph.D., DDS, MBA: New Age therapist**

**Jane "Jones":Orphan who thinks she's Hamlet**

**Charles Richard Jonathan: TV show Host**

**That's about everyone! I don't own any of them!

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"Reminds me of the time me and Billie were surveying the lost territory of the Umbakapowski squirrels. All of a sudden, the tree we were sitting in exploded! Screaming girlishly, we grabbed at each other and were about to fling ourselves from the exploding tree when I--" Chet stopped as Osiris slapped him a cross the face.

"P-Package for Mr. Godfrey Derwood," Oscar stammered. He held a box wrapped in brown paper. Emmy reached for the package furtively. Oscar continued, "E-Emmy, get the rest of the frozen- er, melted- asparagus from the truck."

"Noshtinka," Emmy murmured as she disappeared out back.

Chet exclaimed angrily, "What! I cancelled my order three weeks ago! I do not have any need for melted asparagus!" Chet grabbed the butcher knife and raised all hell in the "Ye Olde English Café".

Carli, the waitress, came into the kitchen singing a song, "I'm gonna be a celebrity, that means somebody ev'ryone knows!" She stopped and gasped. "What is going on in here?" Carli exclaimed.

"Can I get some service?" a new voice asked.

Chet dropped the butcher knife and ran out to greet the customer. "Welcome to the Ye Olde English Café," he said politely, losing his Southern drawl. "What can I get for you?"

"A table for one, please," Lirit answered.

Chet reached over and pulled a table right in front of Lirit. Lirit was a bit surprised, and exclaimed, "Good service!"

Chet smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt, "What can I get for you?" he asked again.

Lirit looked over the menu, "I'll have the macaroni and cheese."

Chet's eyes bulged, "Macaroni and cheese?" he asked, Southern drawl coming back.

Lirit was intimidated by this strange man. "And a tea?"

"Reminds me of the time Billie was calling for tea. He was delusional, we had been trapped in a foxhole for eighteen weeks without food or water. I gave him my left shoe to eat, but that was alright because it was hotter than my cousin Violet. Billie wanted tea, and he was feverish. I had to pour dirt down his pants to make him shut up! All of a sudden, Billie was trying to take off his vest! No, Billie, no! Keep it on, for Christ's sake!" Chet screamed, wrestling an imaginary Billie to the ground.

Lirit peered over the edge of her table, "Do you need help?" she asked.

Chet snapped out of it, "Yeah, I do. I'm sorry you had to see that," he said, getting up off the floor.

A lady called out from another table, "We're from the Chuck Dick John Show! We can help you!"

"Chuck Dick John!" Chet exclaimed. "I love that guy. He was in Tiger Strike Three!" Chet proceeded to perform a bunch of ninja moves from Tiger Strike Three. "Tiger claw! Squatting Lamb! The Gator! My favorite."

Lirit frowned, "The Chuck Dick John Show is for freaks."

The lady from the Chuck Dick John show replied, "Yes, it is! Do you know any freaks that we can get on the show?"

Lirit grinned, "Well, he's a bit indisposed right now."

"How so?"

"He has mono." Lirit wondered how long her macaroni and cheese was going to take.

"Well, I hope he gets better soon!" The lady said.

Chet was having another flashback, "…He looked like Bob Newheart with a bad nose job. And he said, 'Boy, you better put that away before someone gets pregnant.' Billie was mighty ashamed at that, let me tell ya…"

Carli came out of the kitchen with a raspberry pie in the key of D. "Now where did Osiris run off to?" she wondered aloud in her singsongy voice. "He ordered this pie especially!"

"Excuse me!" Lirit hailed the waitress. "Can I get some macaroni and cheese please? And a tea?"

"I know a song about tea!" Carli exclaimed. "I'm a little teapot, short and stout! Here is my handle and here is my-"

"Carli, don't you start that!" Chet yelled at her, raising his fist.

Carli gasped and fled into the kitchen.

Chet followed her in, yelling, "Emmy! Get that melted asparagus out of that sink right now! I am not going to pay for that!"

Lirit wondered if she should have stayed home for lunch.

The lady from the Chuck Dick John Show left with her companion. Lirit was now all alone, with no food. Chet and Carli finally emerged from the kitchen, neither of them carrying her food. Instead, they were carrying cleaning items and began cleaning the restaurant. "The Chuck Dick John Show is going to be filmed here!" Carli was exclaiming. "I'm going to sing!"

Chet was busying polishing the silverware. Lirit asked him about her macaroni and cheese. "Oh, you're still here?" was all he said to her.

Lirit was a bit frustrated with the service, and was about to get up and leave when a film crew walked in the door, followed by half a dozen orphans, the two ladies from the Chuck Dick John Show Lirit had seen earlier, GiGi Valentine and Dr. Hilary Meriwhether, Ph.D., DDS, MBA, and Chuck Dick John himself. One of the orphans was a thirty year old woman in a green sweater and a unibrow. She ran to Chet and exclaimed, "Ophelia! You're still alive!"

Chet dropped the spoon he was cleaning, "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen!"

"So, um, Ophelia, you're not going to kill yourself or anything?" the woman who thought she was Hamlet said.

"Will you marry me?" Chet asked timidly.

"Yes!" Hamlet exclaimed, throwing herself on Chet.

Chet was ecstatic, "I've never been hugged by a girl before!"

GiGi Valentine was there, taking notes for her new book, "GiGi Valentine's Book of Love II".

Chuck Dick John was talking to his assistants, "So these orphans are the freaks for the show?" he asked.

Hamlet heard his voice and removed herself from Chet. Stealthily approaching Chuck Dick John, she said, "So we meet again, Claudius."

CDJ was taken aback, "What?"

"So you think you can just kill my father, sleep with my mother, and take over the throne?"

"Do you want to get this on film?" CDJ asked a cameraman.

"I'm going to kill you, Claudius!" Hamlet screamed, but Chet and GiGi Valentine held her back.

Carli burst into song, "There's no business like show business, like no business I know!"

Chet had another flashback, "…It looked like a Lego house made by Michael Jackson! I remember Billie muttering 'this is creepy' the whole time…."

Oscar and Emmy were busy unloading all of the melted asparagus.

Dr. Hilary Meriwhether, Ph.D., DDS, MBA was holding an interpretive dance seminar for the orphans.

Lirit decided that it was time to go.


	6. Chapter 5

**I don't own Phantom of the Opera or any of Erik's opinions. Please review!

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** The next morning, Lirit burst through Erik's bedroom door with an armful of letters. Erik, ever the light sleeper, immediately woke up. His hands flew to his face, a reflex. "Stop hiding, sleepyhead," Lirit said in a voice too cheerful for a morning, in Erik's opinion. He pulled the covers up to his shoulders and drew his knees up to his chest.

"It's freezing!" he said in a broken voice. "Turn on the heater."

Lirit looked at him funny, "It's not cold. I bet you have a fever. It's one of the symptoms of mono, did you know?" she dumped the letters on Erik's bed and proceeded to begin opening one.

"My throat hurts. Is a sore throat a symptom too?" Erik asked, whispering to save his voice.

Lirit nodded.

Erik watched Lirit open a letter and read it, "What are you doing?" he picked up a letter. "Reading my mail? That's a felony, if I remember correctly. Unless you work for the government."

"I thought that now that you have time, you could respond to some of your fan mail," Lirit replied, not intimidated.

Erik rubbed his neck, "But I'm sick! I don't want to do anything but sleep!"

Lirit threw a letter at him, "Just read it and write a response."

Erik shot her a mean look, but Lirit didn't look up from the note she was reading. Grumpily, Erik opened the envelope and took out folded piece of paper. It had messy writing in purple pen with words scribbled out and small cartoons drawn everywhere. Erik skimmed the letter, a disgusted look on his face. "This person is crazy. Listen to this: 'If Eskimos rub noses to kiss, how do they make out?'" Erik wrinkled his nose. "How should I know?" he dropped the letter on the floor. "Next letter!"

Lirit handed him a letter, "This one is cute, read it."

Erik read the letter. Fortunately, this one was typed neatly. "How does one keep a cat from playing with the telephone cord? I don't know; Jumoke never had that problem."

"Oh! I know!" Lirit cried. "I read it in a book. To deter a cat from forbidden items, you can use a deterrent spray, though I guess that wouldn't be safe for electrical wires. Um, it also said something about a sharp 'No!' or the rattling of a newspaper. Or you could just take it away from the phone. The important thing I guess is consistency."

"You're weird," Erik told Lirit. "Why do you know this?"

Lirit blushed, "What do you care?"

Erik shrugged, "You're right. I don't." He went back to reading the letter. "She also wants to know how to keep 'The Drama Nazi' from hitting her with a script. Take the script away from the Drama Nazi and remove all lamps from the area."

Lirit raised an eyebrow but said, "Good! You're getting the hang of this advice-giving."

Erik tried to hide his smile with a yawn, "What other letters need to be read by the Almighty and Merciful Erik?"

Lirit rolled her eyes, "None of them have questions, they're just poems and prose about how much they love you and how much they've suffered too. This one girl sent you pictures of herself, but I'm not letting you see them."

"What?" Erik exclaimed, voice still broken. "But it's my mail!"

"Well too bad," Lirit dismissed the topic, scrunching up the pictures into a little ball and throwing them out the bedroom door, whereupon they rolled down the stairs, and sat in wait for Jumoke to come along and tear them to shreds.

"I don't want to talk to you anymore," Erik told Lirit, pouting.

"Okay, bye," Lirit said, getting up to leave.

"I'll only forgive you if you make me some chamomile tea," Erik said.

"I don't need your forgiveness," Lirit replied.

"Will you make me some tea anyway?" Erik asked.

Lirit leaned in the doorway, "I don't know, what's the magic word?"

"Lirit, if you don't make me some tea right now, I'm going to kick you out of my house."

"What's the magic word?"

"You're going to wake up tomorrow morning very confused in India."

"What's the magic word?"

"Will you just make me some tea?" Erik asked, exasperated.

"What's the magic word?" Lirit repeated.

Erik sighed, "Lirit, will you please make me some tea?"

Lirit dismissed him with a wave of her hand, "Not with that sarcastic tone, I won't," as she began climbing down the stairs.

"Lirit!" Erik yelled, his voice raw from his sore throat.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just kidding. Tea it is."

"Chamomile," Erik added, coughing.

"Chamomile tea. Milk and honey?" Lirit asked.

"Milk no; honey yes."

"Don't you have some secret Gypsy recipe for sore throats?"

"If I told, you, it wouldn't be a secret anymore."

"The secret isn't whether or not you have the recipe, it's what the recipe is."

"If that's what you think."

Lirit didn't respond. She picked up the crumpled pictures, Jumoke obviously not having found them in time. Walking into the kitchen, she threw them away and put water on the stove to boil. Maybe later, Erik would answer more phan-mail.

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**Review in your own phan-letter to Erik or question and I'll use it in my phic! I promise! Come on, this will be fun!**


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